


His Habits - a Saunter

by Lieju



Series: Jerk Vampire AU [1]
Category: Gaston (Bande Dessinée)
Genre: Horror, M/M, People are gonna die, jerk vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was two weeks after Prunelle's death that the odd events started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Habits - a Saunter

 

It probably shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone, considering his high blood pressure and quick temper.

 

But nevertheless his coworkers were shocked when  L _ éon _ Prunelle died of a heart attack. 

 

The funeral was a somber affair, and Lebrac couldn't help noticing how few people there were attending. There were his family, and relatives he had never even talked about, and people he knew from work, but it seemed like that has been his life.

Lebrac felt like he should say something to Gaston. “It seems his heart was weak, ever since he was a child. It was just a matter of time.”

Gaston just wordlessly nodded, not even looking at him.

 

Lebrac decided against trying to say anything more.

 

 

….

 

The office seemed empty without him, but life had to go on.

 

It was two weeks later that the odd events started.

 

Gaston had been napping in the mail room, when he suddenly became aware of someone standing in the room behind him.

 

There was something else that was odd.

 

Through the weird haze he managed to realize the room was darker than it should have been. Was it already night? Sleepily he wondered if Prunelle had forgotten to wake him up again before going home.

 

There was something wrong with that possibility, though, but at the moment Gaston didn't want to think about it, somehow just closing his eyes and letting go would make it all feel better...

 

He was shaken fully awake by a screeching noise.

 

”What's wrong, boy?” He tried to calm down his seagull, to no avail.

 

Frustrated at the low light, he opened the curtains, wondering why someone would have closed them in the first place.

 

The sunlight washing over the room seemed to calm the gull down, at least.

 

…

 

”Have you seen my seagull?”

Gaston dropped by Lebrac's workroom.

 

”No, I haven't.” The artist told him. He took a good look at the other man. ”Are you okay?”

 

Gaston gave him a smile. ”Why wouldn't I be?”

 

”You look a bit pale.” Lebrac noted. He didn't mention how he was also worried over how Gaston had been so absent lately. He seemed to spend most of his time in the mail room,quietly napping.

Well, it was understandable his spirits would be low after what had happened to Prunelle, and Jef who had at least temporarily taken over his job hadn't had much time or interest in getting Gaston to work.

 

Gaston waved his hand dismissively. ”I'm fine.”

 

…

 

Gaston walked into the mail room, and almost collapsed in his chair. He had to admit, he was being more tired than usual, maybe he was coming down with a flu? The bright light hurt his eyes, so he gathered his strength to walk to the window and closed the curtains.

 

With a detached curiosity, like it was all happening to someone else, Gaston noticed a man standing in the dark corner of the room.

 

There was something familiar about the figure.

Gaston blinked, and the man was standing closer.

 

”Prunelle?”

Gaston couldn't remember why this was surprising, or for that matter, why he was feeling so calm. Usually he would have started pretending to work, but now it felt so distant...

 

”Is this a dream?”

 

Prunelle nodded.

 

It was fine, then. No need to get alarmed, or think too much about all of this.

 

Even when Prunelle reached for him and pulled him into an ice-cold embrace, he didn't react.

 

Not until a piercing pain shot through his throat, then he opened his mouth to scream.

 

But no sound came out.

 

…

 

”What is this smell?” Lebrac sniffed the air, trying to locate the source.

”Is Gaston cooking again?” He couldn't help feeling some relief over it, it had been far too long since Gaston had caused any inconvenience for the office.

 

”I don't think that's it.” Jef told him. ”I think it's coming from the filing cabinet.”

 

”There's something stuck behind it.” With a broom, Lebrac managed to dislodge the object.

 

”Oh my God.” Jef almost gagged. ”Is it dead?”

 

A useless question. The gull was clearly dead, its head almost twisted off.

 

Lebrac tried to avoid being sick. ”We need to tell Gaston. But let's find a box for this first, I don't think I want him to see the body.”

 

…

 

However, Gaston insisted on seeing the bird.

 

He stared on it wordlessly, no one knew what to say.

 

Eventually Jeanne spoke. ”We can bury it on the abandoned lot next to the offices, won't we, Mr. Lebrac?”

 

The artist nodded, and the crowd walked solemnly there.

Gaston insisted on digging the grave himself, despite the protests from others.

 

”Are you really in any shape to do this?” Lebrac asked, but he was assured he could handle it.

However, the exertion turned out to be too much, and Gaston fainted.

 

The ambulance took him to a hospital, and the diagnosis was clear.

 

”He has anemia.”

 

…

During the following days, despite the treatment, he only got worse.

 

”We have given him several blood-transfusions,” The nurse told Lebrac. ”And yet in the morning he is in the same shape again. We don't know what is going on.” He hesitated. ”And he isn't exactly co-operating. He refuses close examination, and taking off that jumper of his. If you could talk to him?”

 

Lebrac found Gaston on a surprisingly good mood. He was sitting in his hospital bed, reading a comic-book Jeanne had brought him. However, there was something feverish about his smile, and Lebrac's mind wasn't laid at rest.

 

”So, how are you doing?”

 

”Much better. I could get back to work already. The doctors insist on keeping me here. I'd rather return to the office already. It would be fine, I could take it easy and rest.”

 

”They let you keep your own clothes here?”

 

Gaston's hand went to his throat, seemingly instinctively.

 

The smile he had on his face seemed oddly unnatural to Lebrac.

”There's no need to change. I'll be going back to the office soon.”

...

 

 

It was due to Jeanne's insistence that eventually Lebrac called Fantasio and explained what had been going on.

”I don't know if there's anything you can do or know, but I know you have seen some weird stuff...”

 

To his relief, Fantasio took it seriously immediately. ”We will be there as soon as possible.”

 

 

…

 

'We' turned out to be Fantasio and an odd-looking old man who introduced himself as The Count of Champignac.

 

”It's a vampire.” The odd old man immediately told them. He shook his head. ”Nasty business.”

 

”Aren't they kinds of bats?” Fantasio asked.

 

The count huffed. ”My boy, it's not unheard of that a vampire would take the form of a bat, but otherwise the animal known as _Desmodus rotundus_ has nothing to do with the undead creature that it's named after. A vampire, or a nosferatu, is a corpse that has come back to life, and sustains it's unlife by drinking the blood of the living.”

 

Lebrac looked doubtful. ”Or, it could just be he has a bad case of anemia.”

 

The count ignored him. ”It's not uncommon for a vampire to focus on one target, draining them little by little. The vampire is prone to be fascinated with an engrossing vehemence, resembling the passion of love, by particular persons. In pursuit of these it will exercise inexhaustible patience and strategy, for access to a particular object may be obstructed in a hundred ways. That's what the experts have to say on the subject, at least.”

 

”What will happen to him? To Gaston?”

 

”A vampire will never desist until it has satiated its passion, and drained the very life of its coveted victim. In other words, if we can't find the vampire and slay it, eventually the boy will die, I'm afraid. And if he's lucky, he will _stay_ dead. Do you have any idea who this vampire used to be? Any idea how he attracted its attention?”

 

An uneasy silence fell over the company.

 

Jeanne was the first to talk. ”This all started after Prunelle died.”

 

”You cannot be serious!” Lebrac told her. ”You can't seriously claim Prunelle has come back to life to stalk the office!”

 

”It sounds a bit... Unlikely.” Fantasio said.

 

”One way to know for sure,” The Count noted. ”Where was he buried?”

 

…

 

Lebrac didn't know how he had not called the police yet.

 

In any case, he refused to help with the digging, instead standing guard with Jeanne, watching Fantasio and Jef dig under the Counts supervision.

 

Eventually the spade hit the wooden casket.

 

Horrified, Lebrac turned away, not sure what he wanted the coffin to contain.

 

So he wasn't sure how to feel when Fantasio called out: ”It's empty!”

 

…

 

”So, we have a vampire on the loose.”

 

”How? Why?”Lebrac asked.

 

”Never mind that, how can we stop it from getting to Gaston?” Jeanne demanded to know.

 

”The vampires have several weaknesses.” The Count informed them. ”They dislike sunlight, but it's only really dangerous to them if they are starved, and this one has been feeding regularly. They can be driven away by garlic or crosses, but their greatest weakness is that they can't enter a house uninvited.”

 

”He had no trouble getting to the office or the hospital room.” Lebrac noted.

 

”And that's why I recommend we get your young friend moved to his home.”

 

”I'll go with him,” Jeanne offered.

The Count nodded. ”Do you have anything to protect yourself with? A cross?”

 

”You can borrow mine.” Jef told her, handing over his crucifix.

 

Jeanne nodded, taking the golden cross. ”I'll return it- After this is all over.”

 

”At least that will offer some protection. But it won't be enough, we need to make preparations.” The Count gestured at Jef. ”Young man, go and fetch a knife and some sturdy pieces of wood.”

 

”What are you doing?” Lebrac asked.

 

”There are two ways to slay a vampire; cut off their head or pierce their heart with a wooden stake. Well, I suppose burning them would also work...”

 

”Are you sure?” Lebrac was more and more certain that the man was insane. ”How do you know this much about vampires?”

 

”I-have my reasons. One of my ancestors did quite a lot of research into bringing humans back from death, and he stumbled upon these _creatures._ I am familiar with his research.”

 

Lebrac got the feeling there was more to it, but something about the Count's expression made him back down.

 

There was pain in his voice. ”Trust me, these things are best disposed of quickly.”

 

Fantasio must have sensed it as well, since he directed the discussion back to the present.

”So, where is he?”

 

”A vampire must have some safe haven where they return to rest. It has been visiting your friend during the night after he was hospitalized, so we have a good chance of surprising it while it's resting during the day. If we can find it, that is.”

 

”Maybe it's at the office?” Lebrac suggested. ”That's where Gaston was pretty eager to return to.”

 

Fantasio nodded. ”The cellar?”

 

”Maybe, but there are people going by almost daily. The same with the attic. Of course he could be hidden, but... It would need to be a place where you can hide away unnoticed.”

 

Lebrac and Fantasio looked at each other. ”The archives.”

 

…

 

”These are the archives of your magazine?” The Count asked, looking around the place with curiosity. ”Can't say it seems all that organized. More like a pile of trash.”

 

Fantasio's tone of voice was defensive. ”It's not _always_ like this. It's just that after Gaston took it over... And he has been ill lately.”

 

Eventually they located a small cavern in the midst of the piles of books.

 

”It looks like there's a tunnel.”

 

It was Lebrac that first spotted it, the light from his flashlight revealing what was hiding there.

 

”Oh my God.”

 

It was a corpse. Lebrac had never much thought of what he had been expecting, it wasn't even that he really fully believed Prunelle was still alive, or at least around. But if anything, he had had this idea of finding him asleep.

 

But the man laying in the cavern was not sleeping. No living human could stay so still, so pale, its eyes open and unseeing, mouth slightly open.

 

The count pushed the shocked artist out of the way. ”Quickly, before it wakes.”

 

Stunned, Lebrac watched the body stir, unnaturally and stiffly. It's glassy unblinking eyes moved, spotting the intruders.

 

But then it spoke, and the voice was familiar. ”Lebrac?”

 

This was enough to break the artist out of his shock, and he realized just what the count was about to do.

”No!”

He pushed the count down before he had the time to use the stake.

 

”What are you doing, you madman! That thing is not your friend anymore!”

 

Someone dropped the light in the ensuing scuffle, leaving them in the dark, and with a rumble, books fell.

 

”We are caved in.”

 

”Is everyone alright? Where is Prunelle?” Fantasio managed to get his flashlight working. A quick check confirmed they were all relatively unhurt, but the vampire was nowhere to be seen.

 

”Just great! We missed possibly our only chance!” The Count exclaimed.

 

”I couldn't let you just kill him!” Lebrac protested.

 

”He is already dead! Do you think it would not hesitate to kill you? Now he has escaped and won't be stupid enough to return here!”

 

”Enough!” Fantasio interfered. ”We need to dig our way out of here. You can argue later.”

 

…

 

Gaston was woken up by a crash.

”Miss Jeanne?”

 

Only silence answered.

 

Shakily, Gaston stood up, and like pulled by some outside force, walked to the living room.

There was a knock on the door.

 

”Miss Jeanne?”

 

The figure on his doorstep turned out to be someone quite different.

”Prunelle! Aren't you-”

 

”Dead? Is that what they told you?”

 

Gaston could only stare. This wasn't a dream, was it?

 

”You don't look so good.”

 

What Gaston could see of him in the dark street, anyway. He was deathly pale, apart from his reddish lips. And there was something wrong with his eyes... When the light hit them they almost looked red.

 

”I was... attacked. There was a weird man spreading lies about me. He wants to hurt me.”

 

Gaston nodded eagerly. He could believe his death and all the bad things that had happened had just been a plot.

 

”Gaston, I need your help. You believe me, don't you?”

 

”Yes.”

 

Prunelle smiled, and Gaston couldn't help the feeling that the smile was all wrong.

 

Nevertheless, when he told him ”Then invite me in.” Gaston didn't hesitate.

 

”Come in.”

 

As soon as the words had left his lips he found himself pushed against the wall by cold hands.

”Mmhuh?”

 

”It will be fine, Gaston. You never have to work again, you'd like that, right?”

 

Panic started to rise in Gaston's chest. ”Where's Miss Jeanne?”

 

”Oh, she's perfectly alright. You can have her, later.”

 

”Wha-what do you mean by 'have'?”

 

”All you need to do is come with me. It's peaceful, it really is.” He nuzzled his neck, and the familiar stinging pain was back, making it even harder for Gaston to think. ”Just follow me out of your own will.”

 

He was just so tired, it was very tempting to just let go, and he nodded.

 

But at the edge of his consciousness, something demanded his attention.

 

”Prunelle, what about the mail? The magazine?”

 

He let go of his neck, and pulled back to look Gaston in the eye.

The thought that all that red on his lips and chin was probably his blood seemed important, but was pushed back, when he looked him in the eye.

 

”That doesn't matter anymore.”

 

But with that statement the feeling that this was all wrong, that this _Prunelle_ was wrong, was back.

 

”But-”

Gaston tried to think, wasn't there something he needed to do, something important he had forgotten?

It wasn't the mail, maybe he had forgotten to feed his pets-

 

He remembered his seagull.

 

 

…

 

It took hours for the company of would-be-vampire slayers to dig their way out of the archives, and it was almost morning when they arrived to the driveway of the house they had left Gaston and Jeanne in.

 

They were greeted by a sight of an ambulance and two police-cars.

 

Fantasio cursed under his breath.

”We are too late.”

 

”What is going on here?” Somehow the Count managed to get them through despite the police objections. It seemed he was just a patrolman who was all too happy to avoid the scene.

 

To their relief, Jeanne was alive, sitting on the doorstep, an ambulance technician tending to her head.

She tried to stand, but almost fainted, and slumped back down. ”Gaston is inside, he is bleeding and doesn't let anyone close to him. I am so sorry. I heard a sound, and it sounded like his cat, and I couldn't leave him outside alone, I only stepped out for a second, but...”

 

”You were attacked?”

 

Jeanne shook her head, and grimaced, the action making her head hurt. ”Not bitten, if that's what you mean. I was hit in the head and lost my consciousness... It was Gaston it wanted. Please, talk to him, he doesn't want to talk to me anymore.” She burst into tears. ”What if he hates me now?”

 

Fantasio barged into the house. There were some signs of a struggle, and an odd smell, but his attention was focused on the figure sitting on the sofa, slowly rocking back and forth.

 

”Gaston?”

 

The man lifted his eyes. ”Fantasio? It wasn't him. It wasn't Prunelle anymore.”

 

Fantasio shook his head. ”It wasn't. Are you okay? You are bleeding.”

 

Gaston lifted his hand to his throat. His jumper gone, Fantasio could clearly see the signs of countless bites.

”He wanted me to go with him. To be like him. I almost said yes. But then I remembered what he did to my seagull. He wanted to do the same thing to Miss Jeanne. So I... We... It wasn't _him_ anymore.”

 

Fantasio sat next to him, laying a comforting arm on his shoulder. ”The real Prunelle died over a month ago. Now we need to make sure _you_ won't. Go to the doctors outside, okay?”

 

He nodded, and helped by Fantasio and Lebrac, he was escorted outside.

 

Fantasio was about to ask what had happened to the vampire when he realized where the smell was coming from.

 

In the corner of the living room, there lay a body.

 

This time it was clearly dead, for all appearances like a corpse that had started decomposing over a month ago.

 

And in it's chest, where the unbeating heart had once laid, was stuck the stake the Count had given to Jeanne.

 

 


End file.
